


Dysfunction

by 221B_johnlock_st



Series: Diversity [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Eating Disorders, Illnesses, M/M, Mycroft Feels, Mycroft Holmes Needs a Hug, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Trans Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-03
Updated: 2018-11-03
Packaged: 2019-08-16 21:48:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16503311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/221B_johnlock_st/pseuds/221B_johnlock_st
Summary: Mycroft Holmes struggles with chronic pain and an eating disorder that costs him more than he ever thought it would.





	Dysfunction

**Author's Note:**

> Mentions of Eating disorder

       Post-orthostatic tachycardia syndrome is a big word for most 14-year-olds but Mycroft was no normal 14 year old. 6 months of doctors visits and specialists and scans and blood test. He was just happy it was over. They knew what it was what was causing him so much pain, so now they could fix it.  
       Mycroft sat on the chair of his third doctor in the past 6 months, the other two mummy had rejected after they had pulled her aside to ask if she knew for sure Mycroft wasn’t just seeking out attention with false claims of pain. So here he was sat in front of Dr.Clark who had finally given his pain a name, finally just as Mycroft was starting to believe the other doctors who were saying he was lying, finally they had a name, not just the faint concept of pain. As the doctor began to explain what that meant what “POTS”, as he called it, was one word stuck out that made Mycroft cringe. Longterm, what did that mean? Five months, five years. He remembered the faces the other boys made at him when he had to sit down after one lap around the gym, the way his teacher had argued when he asked to go to the nurse for the second day in a row because he felt dizzy. He remembered the way his back aches after sitting for only 20 minutes.  
       “What are the treatment options?” His mother asked putting her hand on his shoulder for comfort though it did nothing.  
       “ Well,” His doctor replied “there’s medication that could help, and physical therapy has proven helpful in some cases. It’s really more about finding what's right for him, every case differs, but we definitely have somewhere to start now.” The doctor smiled at the both of them but the more she spoke that faster Mycroft's face fell. This was not a diagnosis this was just another stalling tactic. Surely there was not a name for something that no one knew anything about.  
       As soon as they returned home after setting up his first Physical Therapy appointment, Mycroft rushed to the computer and googled POTS not liking the results he was given. Words like life-altering, and potentially Lifelong showed up more then he would have liked. He stabbed the power button so hard he thought for a moment he might have broken it, before running to his room and diving into his bed so he could wallow in his own self-pity.  
       -7 years later -  
       The pain he had gotten used to at this point, he had gotten used to a lot of it. The medication, the doctor's visits, the headaches, the fatigues. But this, this was new he thought to himself as he looked down at the scale. It seemed as he got older and his metabolism slowed, and as his doctor encouraged him to cut more and more physical labor out of his daily life the pounds just kept adding on. At first, he had thought he was getting bloated again something that happened every now and again, but after a week of the number progressively going up, he decided that this was not something he could blame on the POTS. Not something he would allow himself to blame on the POTS. He had blamed too much on it, his excessive days off, continuing to live at home, the end of his relationship with Ian. He decided at that moment he was going to move out. There was nothing stopping him, he had a stable job that provided a well enough income, not to mention his trust fund. He would have to tell Sherlock, which would be tough but his brother knew he loved him, and he wasn’t planning on moving far. He simply decided he needed his own space.  
       As it turned out his own space ended up being a 45-minute drive away, something he had not intended, but after his boss had heard him mention he was planning on moving he offered him a position currently better than his own in London. His boss had liked him and had offered him the opportunity knowing he couldn't resist. His brother had been devastated when he told him, asked in a quiet voice it if it had been because he had changed his name and cut his hair, and before Mycroft could reassure him that that was not the reason he broke out and tears and begged Mycroft to stay promising he would change back. He had pulled Sherlock into his arms promising that he would bring him up for weekends and allow him to explore the city with him. And he did, for the first 2 months it was every weekend, but then he started working every other weekend so for a while, it was twice a month until it was only the first weekend of every month until finally he only saw Sherlock when he came home for the holidays.  
       By the time Sherlocks visits had become almost nonexistent Mycroft had settled in and managed to lose the pounds, he had gained. He felt a spark of joy every time the numbers on the scale went down, and for a while the healthy diet he had evoked had work. He was not necessarily restrictive, he simply stayed away from the fatty foods, and cut back on his sugar intake. The city had help with his weight loss surprisingly, the food options were simple more varied and included healthier options for fast food that he didn’t have in his hometown. Then he meets Fredric.  
       Fredric was fantastic, he was smart and handsome with a hard of gold, he also happened to be a pastry chef. They started dating and it was going amazing, so amazing that 6 months in Mycroft gave him a key and 5 days out of the week Fredric was staying at his place, somewhat out of convenience because his restaurant was around the corner but also because they had to fall madly in love with each other.  
       It was Monday morning and Fredric was cooking breakfast while Mycroft got ready in the bathroom. He stepped on the scale something he hadn’t done in months, he had been so swept away by his new live-in boyfriend to worry about his weight, and obviously, that had been a mistake. 10 pound, 10 pounds in 2 months it was worse than he had imagined. Of course, he had noticed that his pants fit a little snugger, and he couldn’t fit into the white button up that used to fit snuggly to his body but he hadn't imagined it would be 10 pounds. The scales display glared back up at him and he felt nauseous. He threw on clothes that felt suffocating, and walked into the dining room.  
       “Hi, sweety!” Fredric exclaimed and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. When Mycroft didn’t respond He took a step back with an inquisitive look. “Oh, is it a bad day? Do you want me to get you your medication?” another amazing thing about Fredric. When he had told him about his POTS he had assumed Fredric would forget it and move on but the man was a saint and had spent to whole night researching it to understand. Now when Mycroft was having particularly bad day Fredric could tell and took the opportunity to get his pain medicine ready for him just as he was doing now.  
       “Now, I know you haven't eaten anything yet today but if you take this now I already have breakfast made and we can eat as soon as you take this,” Fredric said as he handed him the glass of water and the pill. Yes, breakfast something he had been looking forward to when he had woken up but now as his stomach churned due to the number he had seen on the scale he wasn’t so excited. He took the medication despite the fact that today wasn’t a particularly bad pain day. He sat down at the table and Fredric set the food in front of him  
       “Eat up honey, don't want to have an upset stomach all day with all the important government business you need to worry about.” yes his medication must be taken with food he almost forgot, but the idea of eating him made him want to vomit. He poked around at his food and took small bits of the egg whites. As Mycroft was leaving They kissed goodbye.  
       “Breakfast was amazing, Thank you.” Mycroft smiled up at him.  
       “You barely even touched it,” Fredric whined back with puppy eyes  
       “I know, I’m just not feeling very well, but from what I had it was very good.” Fredric gave him a sad smile and kissed him again.  
       “Feel better,” he said and finally Mycroft left stomach still queasy from the little food he did eat.  
       It went on like this for another month. Lame excuses and a sympathetic Fredric. Mycroft had dropped the 10 pounds and then some but he was still limiting himself, and Fredric was beginning to notice.  
-  
       “I think you should schedule an appointment with your doctor,” Fredric said while he watched Mycroft push around his mash potatoes with a fork. Mycroft paused.  
       “Why?” He asked, and Fredric looked flabbergasted  
       “You can’t tell me that you haven't noticed, You haven’t eaten a proper meal in months, obviously there’s something wrong. Maybe your medicine is affecting your stomach I don't know but you’ve nearly dropped 10 pounds in one month. That’s not healthy Mycroft.” He took a breath before continuing calmer. “I’m just, I’m worried.”  
“I assure you it’s nothing to worry about, I have just been watching my weight recently is all.” Mycroft had hoped that that would be the end to the conversation, but by the look on Fredric's face he was not, it was an odd mix between anger and fear Mycroft noted.  
       “You mean you’ve been doing this to yourself?” Fredric nearly shouted, and stood abruptly. “It’s been a month, Mycroft, a month seance you eat a full meal. I know for a fact because your assistant called to ask if you wanted to cancel your daily deliveries because you always throw them away.” He was seething “This is not how you ‘diet’ this is how you die Mycroft. You can't just, just forgo food like it’s some kind of want that you can live without.” Mycroft had set his fork down by this point  
       “Right, are you done now, I was rather hoping we could watch a movie before bed.” Fredric just looked at him with an open mouth.  
       “I cannot believe you,” he said before walking out the door.  
-  
       Fredric came back eventually, and they didn’t talk about it for a while, but as every meal passed and Mycroft continued to only pick at his food Fredric left. They had a short conversation about it the day before Mycroft came home and there was no sign that Fredric had even lived there.  
       Dinner was a task, just like it was every night since Frederic had found out, and it ended the same way it always did with Fredric throwing away Mycroft's whole plate of food that he didn’t even bother pushing around anymore. They had watched a movie and cuddled, and it almost felt normal again, but as things got more hot and heavy and Mycroft shirt was shed Fredric paused and carefully ran his hands over Mycroft’s ribs which were protruding from his chest. Mycroft could see Fredric’s eye well up so he pulled Fredric’s hand away placing it on his face instead and kissed him until he forgot again. The rest was a blur, but they had made it to there bedroom and were ready to fall asleep when Fredric ran his hand across Mycroft sunken in belly and whispered  
       “Do you ever think you’ll get help? For me” and Fredric waited for a reply “Because I’ll help you through this, I just need to know that you’ll at least try, for my sake.” There was a long pause and Mycroft squeezed his eyes shut before slowly shaking his head. He knew Fredric felt it because he pressed his head to the back of Mycroft's neck and a wet spot formed where his eyes would be. He held Fredric's hand to his heart hand squeezed it and Fredric squeezed back letting out a soft sob. Soon Fredric fell asleep and Mycroft followed suit.  
       They woke up in the morning and got ready as usual but Fredric didn’t even bother to make breakfast. When Mycroft went to leave Fredric kissed him goodbye like alway but this time it took him longer to pull away and when he did he rested his forehead against Mycroft and stared into his eyes  
“I love you,” Fredric said and kissed him one more time.  
       “I love you too,” Mycroft said with a weak smile, and he left. That was the last time he saw Fredric at least for many years.  
-3 months later-  
       Mycroft woke up in a hospital room with a feeding tube shoved down his throat and a million monitors hooked up to him and Sherlock and his mother curled up in two hospital chairs next to him.  
       He found out soon after that his heart had given out from the strain of not eating, and that was where Mycroft recovery began.

**Author's Note:**

> I did a little research on POTS but I'm sorry if I got anything wrong. I know it's most common in women but it's not exclusively a female thing so I went with it.


End file.
